Perfection and Pet Peeves
by Diswrit
Summary: A series of short stories/drabbles that revolve around Alice and Dean. More specifically, the little things they do that make them feel like they've mated perfection, and other things they do to annoy the hell of each other, intentionally or not. - Companion to Three Knives
1. When he passes out on Stakeouts

Stakeouts were a regular occurrence in Alice's life. From simple five minute reconnaissance trips, to tailing, to all-nighters, Alice had done it all. This particular stake out was to ensure that a suspected werewolf didn't give them the slip. Routine enough, and boring as all hell. Coffee was your best friend on this kind of job, and Alice had plenty of it. Or, she would have, if Dean hadn't drunk most of it within ten minutes of nightfall.

"The rest is for me," Alice said, clutching the remaining thermos protectively.

"You're gonna drink eight cups of coffee?" Dean asked dubiously.

"Over ten hours?" Alice shot back. "You're gonna have to go get me more when I run out."

"You've got a problem," Dean said, settling into his seat. "Is that a shifter thing, or..."

"I never kept track of my coffee consumption," she said defensively. "Besides, you just drank almost eight cups in two minutes!"

"It's been like, an hour we've been sitting here," Dean protested.

"Because that makes it normal," Alice scoffed. "You know, you're gonna blow our cover for sure now."

"How?" Dean demanded.

"You're gonna be getting out of the car every five minutes to pee," Alice said, rolling her eyes.

"Am not. I can be a camel," Dean grumbled.

"Is it even physically possible to drink that much of anything that quickly?" Alice continued, now ignoring Dean. "Especially caffeine. I bet you're gonna have a heart attack any minute now. Then you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna laugh at you."

"No you won't," Dean said, feigning hurt. "You'd be heart-broken."

Alice snorted in response.

If Dean's coffee guzzling had left Alice nonplussed, it was nothing compared to what came next.

Three hours after nightfall, Dean passed out.

Alice didn't notice until he started snoring softly. She frowned, and leaned forward to examine him. Sure enough, he was out cold. She considered poking him to make sure he was still alive, but she could plainly see that he was breathing. She almost woke him up anyway, to scold him for passing out on a stake out.

Strangely enough though, Alice found that she actually wasn't mad at him for falling asleep.

She studied him, and realized he looked more at rest than she'd ever seen him. His features were completely relaxed, his lips parted slightly and his head slumped to the side.

Despite herself, Alice couldn't help but think he looked rather cute. She felt like she ought to be angry with him. After all, he was leaving her to keep the vigil on her own. One more look at Dean's peaceful countenance, however, and Alice gave up on the practicalities of the situation. She watched him breathing softly for a few more minutes, before snorting and settling back into her own seat.

"Who the hell passes out after they drink eight cups of coffee," Alice muttered under her breath.


	2. When she blows off other guys

Dean didn't consider himself to be the jealous type. When it came to Alice and other guys, he didn't feel like he had any business telling her what to do, or what not to do, mostly because of his own wandering eye.

Still, there was something that irked him whenever other men did approach her. Like when he played pool, and his opponents seemed more interested in Alice than they did the game. Granted, this should have been good for making money. Would have been, if Alice was... well, anyone but Alice.

Dean stepped up to make his shot, one eye on Alice and the tall, wiry man who sauntered up to her like he hadn't just sunk the cue ball.

"So, hot stuff, you play?" he asked, leaning on her table and resting his pool cue on his shoulder.

"No," Alice said shortly, taking another swig of her whiskey. She watched Dean as he lined up his shot.

"Why not, sweets?" the man asked persistently.

"I don't enjoy the game," Alice lied. Dean knew that she actually sucked, and got embarrassed every time she missed a shot. If she tried to play while she was drinking, she often had trouble hitting the cue ball with the stick, much less pocketing a ball.

"That's a shame," the man said, seemingly oblivious to Alice's disinterest. "It's the greatest game there is. Maybe I could help you appreciate it..."

"I doubt it," Alice said as Dean made his shot, successfully. She knocked back the rest of her drink in silent celebration, and winked at him. The other man didn't notice, and wasn't paying attention to what Dean was doing either.

"So, what games _do_ you like?" he asked, either oblivious to Alice's disinterest, or too drunk to care.

"I don't like any games," Alice said flatly. Another lie, Dean knew. Alice loved darts and chess, even though she was horrible at the latter.

"Come on, there has to be _something_ ," the man pressed. Dean thought he was starting to sound a bit whiny, although to be fair, Dean supposed he was a bit biased.

"Nope," Alice said as she finished her drink. Meanwhile, Dean sunk two balls into the same pocket.

"You drinking whiskey?" the man asked.

Alice pretended that she didn't hear him. He was starting to look a bit irked, but hid it behind a smile.

"Say, why don't I cover your next drink?" he offered.

"No thanks," Alice said.

It was the most obvious 'go away' signal a girl could give in a bar. Visibly diminished, the man muttered something and turned back to the pool game, to find that Dean had run the table while he tried to pick up Alice.

"Come on, fork it over," Dean said with a smirk.

Whatever else was to be said about the man, he was a good sport. He handed Dean the money, and shook his hand before declining a rematch.

Dean made his way over to Alice, and sat next to her.

"Hey hot stuff," he greeted her.

"Hey yourself," she returned with a smile.

"What do you say I buy you a drink?" Dean offered.

"You can do that," Alice said, her eyes twinkling, "But you'll probably have to drive me home after."

Her tone was full of suggestion, and Dean couldn't help grinning.

"I think that can be arranged," he replied easily.

Dean didn't know what he was worried about. He'd never seen Alice flirting with anyone but him anyway.


	3. When he flirts

Dean had a lot of vices that Alice accepted, mostly because she shared many of the same 'flaws'. He was taken to drinking, liked his music loud and obnoxious, and enjoyed killing things way more than was probably considered healthy. In truth, Alice didn't actually consider any of these things negative, but that was her opinion against the worlds.

The one thing about Dean that drove her mad, however, was his flirting.

Alice didn't have much use for flirting, even between her and Dean. She would never admit it to anyone, least of all Dean, but he made her uncomfortable when he tried to flirt with her. She felt like she couldn't come up with a good response quickly enough, and in any case preferred to get right to the point. Dean claimed that Alice flirted with him all the time, and she decided long ago that her supposed flirting episodes must come about only when she was black-out drunk.

What really drove her batshit up the belfry, however, was when Dean flirted with other women.

Which was all the time.

It must have been hardcoded into his DNA. The easiest smile you ever saw, words that flowed like honey, and eyes that seeped suggestion. It was as natural as breathing for him, and he never seemed to notice that it left Alice with the ardent desire to pummel something.

Of course, Alice had to admit that his silver tongue had its uses.

"That's a very interesting ring," Dean said. He, Sam and Alice crowded a porch belonging to a woman named Valerie Matchosk. Sam held open a travelling jewelry display case, while Alice lurked behind them.

"Thank you," Valerie replied happily. "It's been in the family forever."

"Wedding band?" Dean questioned.

"Actually, no," Valerie told him.

Alice grit her teeth at the woman's tone, slinking back to stand behind Sam as she fought the urge to knock some of Valerie's teeth out.

"There's a surprise," Dean chuckled. "Pretty thing like you, I would have imagined someone already would have made a move."

Valerie giggled like a little girl, and Alice's eye twitched. Sam glanced over his shoulder, and Alice could tell he was struggling not to laugh at her. She shot him the dirtiest look she could, and stuffed her fingers into her ears unashamedly.

Alice stared stonily at Dean's back, putting the world on mute until he finally turned, holding up the woman's ring triumphantly. Alice pulled her fingers out of her ears, grimacing at the pop that followed the action.

"- spiel about fixing the setting," Dean was telling Sam. Behind him, the door was closed, and Valerie out of sight.

"Poor girl," Sam commented as they walked back to the Impala. "She's gonna be devastated when you don't bring that ring back Wednesday."

"She'll be more devastated if she gets the thing back and ends up dead," Dean commented. The ring was cursed, and it was the entire reason they were in town.

"Oh, she'll be devastated, but not because she doesn't get the ring back," Alice said icily.

Dean raised his eyebrows in silent question, but Alice just shook her head.

"Let's melt this thing down before it causes any more trouble," she growled.


	4. When she taps her foot

Alice wasn't a patient person under the best of circumstances, and was even less so when she had to sit still while she was waiting for something.

Dean and Alice sat together in the Impala, waiting for Sam to come back from the bathroom. His cheeseburger had not agreed with him, and he had been in the bathroom for a while now. Alice was antsing to get back on the road, though why, Dean couldn't say. They had nowhere to be, no case to work, nothing to do but drive until something interesting presented itself, or something tried to kill them.

Dean's eyes crept downward, to watch Alice's feet. Her left foot, in particular. She was tapping it incessantly, so hard that the entire car was shaking.

"Alice, you're making the car shake," Dean complained.

"Hmm?" Alice said, seeming to just realize for the first time that she was moving. "Oh. Sorry."

She stopped tapping, and Dean leaned back in his seat. Less than a minute later, however, her foot was back at work, and she seemed to be unaware of it. Dean tried to ignore her for a while, and succeeded for about thirty seconds.

"Alice, your foot," he groaned.

"Right. Sorry."

Alice stopped tapping her foot, and Dean sighed in relief, sure that this would be the end of the shaking.

He was wrong.

Alice's foot started up again in a few minutes, this time moving more quickly than ever before.

"Alice, you're driving me crazy!" Dean growled, lunging down to hold Alice's foot in place.

"Oh my _god_ , Dean!" Alice shot back, pushing him off her. "You're worse than my frigging grandmother!"

"And you're worse than Sam on a sugar high!" Dean retorted, sticking his leg onto her side of the car and holding her foot down with his.

"You can't do that forever, you need both feet to drive," Alice snarled, pushing him away unsuccessfully.

Dean started to snap back at her, before a light bulb went off in his head.

"You know, you're right," he said breathlessly, letting her foot go.

Alice narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as he got out of the car, and went around to the trunk.

"Dean, what are you doing?" she called.

He ignored her, rooting through the trunk.

* * *

Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, looking a bit worse for wear. As he approached the Impala, it occurred to him that something didn't look quite right. Alice was glowering through the windshield, with her arms crossed over her chest. Sam peered in the window, his eyebrows rising as he realized her arms were actually ducktaped together against her chest. A quick glance downward told Sam that Alice's feet were also wrapped in in tape, and firmly moored to the floor.

"Do I even want to ask?" Sam said dubiously.

" _No!_ " Alice and Dean replied in unison.


	5. When he sharpens his knives

There were a few things that excited Alice without fail.

Cheesecake.

Finishing a hunt.

Knives.

Live Aerosmith concerts.

And Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester and knives overlapped a lot. He kept almost as many knives on his person as did she, and could fight with one like nobody's business. Alice was used to seeing Dean with a knife in his hand. Over time, the sight became routine, and lost some of its flavor.

Until the first time Alice saw Dean sharpening a knife.

It was in the aftermath of an especially brutal vampire hunt. The fang, as Sam and Dean referred to it, was a loner, but the path of destruction it carved through Ashley Falls Massachusetts was impressive for a single vampire. Apparently, the thing had lost its mate, and decided life wasn't worth living anymore. Unwilling to just pay some druggie to saw his head off, he decided to go out with more of a bang. By the time he was finished, half the town and two other hunters were dead.

Dean had been the one to finally put the bastard down, by hacking its head off with a hunting knife. It was one of the most savage displays Alice had ever witnessed, and she had seen a lot of gory shit in her time.

"That was brutal, and a little sickening," Alice commented afterwards.

Dean, covered with blood, and still holding the fang's head in one hand, and the knife in the other, gave her the oddest look.

"Huh," he said, letting the head drop to the ground with a heavy, wet thud. "I never thought I'd see you cringe at any amount of blood, Alice."

"What? No, the blood doesn't bother me," Alice said quickly, rolling her eyes. She snatched the knife from him, examining the blade. It had struck the pavement several times with incredible force, and she winced as she surveyed the damage.

"I just never thought I would see anyone mistreat a knife like that," she sighed.

Dean chuckled, breathless from his struggle with the vampire.

"I should have known," he snorted, taking the knife back from her.

The next day, they were still in Ashley Falls. The vampire had done nothing to hide its true nature during its rampage, which meant that the surviving citizens knew exactly what had been hunting among them, and who had killed it. As such, Alice and the Winchesters were inclined to stick around for a while. Especially since the mayor offered to let them stay in her own house, which was little short of mansionhood.

"You know she's talking about giving us a key to the city," Sam said. He was reclined on the mayor's couch with a book. To his left, Alice was inspecting her knives, honing and cleaning them. Across from them, Dean was toying with the knife he had used to hack the vampire's head off. He eyed Alice's knife bag for a long moment, and she caught his gaze.

"Do you want something?" she asked.

"Yeah, can I have that stone?" he asked, leaning forward and pulling it out of the open bag.

Alice raised her eyebrows, but shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. What's mine is mine, what's yours is mine... or however it goes," she said.

"Thanks."

Dean stood, and carried the sharpening stone off in the direction of the kitchen. Alice watched him go, her interest piqued. Sam was still talking, but she tuned him out, listening to the water running in the kitchen. After a moment, a slow, steady scraping began.

Alice stood, and made for the kitchen, leaving Sam alone. He watched her go, sighing.

"I'm so glad you two are interested in the key to the city," he muttered under his breath, going back to his book.

Alice peeked around the corner into the kitchen, to see Dean sitting at the table. Before him, was a towel, upon which the sharpening stone sat. Off to the side, Dean had a bowl of water. He was methodically drawing the dulled blade across the water stone, maintaining a ten degree angle as it traveled away from him. Every now and then, he stopped to wipe the metal flakes and dust off the stone, or moisten it by dipping his fingers in the water bowl and flicking droplets onto its surface.

Alice watched, mesmerized as he continued. He didn't notice her until he stopped to test the edge he was working on with his thumbnail.

"Hey," he greeted her, sparing her no more than a glance before resuming his ministrations to the knife.

Alice left the doorway, and pulled up a chair across from Dean. Her eyes followed his hands as he worked with the blade, slowly bringing it back from ruin, it's jagged, worn edge growing keener and straighter with every pass. He paid special attention to the tip, curving the knife just so as he reached the end of the stone to create a wicked point.

Alice rested her chin on the table, and hummed quietly in satisfaction as she watched him work. A moment later, he stopped, regarding her oddly.

"You okay over there?" he asked, leaning toward her slightly with concern written all over his features. "It, uh... kinda sounds like you're hyperventilating a bit."

"Dean, lemme see that knife," Alice requested, holding her hand out.

"Uh... okay," Dean conceded, flipping it to hand it to her handle first. She examined the blade. It still needed work, but he was doing a damn good job so far.

"So..." Dean trailed off, watching her. "Can I have that back?"

"Maybe later," Alice said, putting it down on the table. "Let's go have sex. Right now."

She was dead serious and absolutely unapologetic. What could she say? There was nothing sexier than a guy who knew his way around a knife.

Dean looked surprised at the sudden request, but he wasn't about to turn her down.

"Wow, okay," he said, a slow grin spreading across his features.


	6. How she writes hunting notes on her hand

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir," Dean said, smiling as their last lead slammed the door in his face. He turned to Alice.

"Well that was a waste of time," he said.

"Not really," Alice replied, holding her hand out demandingly. "Pen."

Dean obliged, and gave her his pen. She immediately started scrawling notes on the back of her hand.

"Whatcha writing?" Dean asked.

"That guy has the rattiest curtains I've ever seen," Alice observed. "Might be relevant later on."

"Seriously?" Dean asked dubiously.

"Dean, there've been so many twists and turns on this case, I don't even remember why we're here," Alice said defensively. "I've got the feeling it's gonna be some stupid little detail that cracks this shit open."

"Whatever you say," Dean replied wearily.

They called Sam, who was still struggling to come up with a theory on /what/ they were hunting. Alice and Dean left him to his research, and tackled on the /who/ part of the equation. They had a ton of follow up work to do on their suspects/potential victims. While they looked through public records, Alice continued to write hunting notes on her hand.

"You're gonna get... ink poisoning, or something," Dean commented once.

"That's a myth," Alice replied shortly. In defiance of his insinuation, she reached over and drew a large black dot on the back of his hand.

"That's right, take me down with you," Dean said sarcastically, rubbing at the mark in annoyance.

Alice just laughed at him and scribbled something else on her hand.

A while later, Sam called with something of a theory.

"Okay, the coroner's office called," Sam started.

"They get anything on the carvings?" Dean asked.

"No, but they've got something on the first victim. Remember the torn and missing clothes?" Sam prompted.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Turns out they weren't ripped, or taken. They were eaten. By moths."

Dean and Alice shared a confused glance.

"Moths?" Alice questioned. "So what, we're dealing with some kind of killer moth man or something?"

"Short of this guy having been hacked up by actual moths? I'd say it's a good start to a theory," Sam allowed.

"Hey," Dean said, remembering the first note Alice had taken. He grabbed her hand, and read the line that went across the center of her palm.

" _Gersins= Holey curtains_ ," Dean read aloud.

"Gersins... like Jake Gersins?" Sam asked. "The Paradise suites super?"

"Yeah, his curtains were all worn and full of holes," Alice remembered.

"Whaddaya know," Dean chuckled. "Alice's semi-psychotic hand notes came in handy after all."

Alice rolled her eyes, and Dean laughed at her. He would never say so out loud, mostly because he actually believed in ink poisoning, but he thought her note-keeping habits were kind of cute.


	7. When he holds her back on hunts

Alice loved to hunt. She had been raised hunting demons for the most part. Small fry as far as the Smith family incorporated were concerned, but it was what she, her grandmother and sister had specialized in before everything went to hell.

In spite of this, demon hunts were not what she enjoyed the most. Alice like monster hunts more than anything. She loved tracking, and closing in on a target. She loved the chase. She loved the thrill of combat and the high that accompanied a kill. The unrestrained brutality in a life or death exchange was delicious, and the feeling of emerging victorious from battle was almost better than sex.

So naturally, the last thing Alice wanted was an overprotective idiot holding her back while she was trying to annihilate something.

"Dean, what are you doing?!" she hissed in a harsh, enraged whisper as he shoved his way in front of her.

"Stay back," he ordered.

"No, it's right there!" Alice said, gesturing wildly at the ugly son of a bitch they were chasing through the sewers of Nashville. Half bull and half man, it towered over even Sam, and had to crawl on all four of its twisted limbs through the narrow catacombs beneath the city. A minotaur had no place anywhere near civilization, where it terrorized children by virtue of its inherent ugliness, and raped women in droves.

"What are you gonna do, wrestle it into submission?" Dean snorted quietly, peeking around the bend to make sure the beast was still oblivious to their presence.

"No, I'm gonna stab it," Alice said, raising her bronze xiphos. It was a traditional double-edged, one-handed greek shortsword, and Alice loved the thing. It was quickly climbing her list of favorite weapons, and she was itching to use it in the field.

"How about I stab it, and you cover me?" Dean suggested softly, his fingers curling more tightly around the hilt of his own xiphos. They had stolen three of the weapons from a local museum, and Dean's looked like it actually may have seen battle before. It had been polished and put on display, but Alice couldn't miss the nicks on the edge that came from the blade smashing against bone.

"What, are you afraid the rats are gonna sneak up and take you from behind?" Alice snapped.

"Look, in case you hadn't noticed, you're kind of this thing's type," Dean shot back. "I'm not letting it get near you."

"Oh, how incredibly sweet of you," Alice rolled her eyes. She tried to shove past him, but he pushed her back with one arm, peering around the corner again.

"Dean, if I don't get to off this thing, I'll go for you instead," she warned.

"Yeah, well I'll gladly take a few bruises to keep that thing's hooves off you," Dean said absently.

Alice wasn't amused.

"Dean Winchester, this is entirely unprofessional!" she said loudly.

Dean turned to her, shushing her urgently.

"If you think I won't strangle you because you're hot, you got another thing coming," Alice went on, practically yelling now.

"What are you doing, you're gonna, bring the thing down on-"

Dean cut off, realizing what she was doing.

"God damn it Alice!"

Behind them, a roar echoed through the sewers, shaking slimy algae loose from the low ceiling and sending it raining down on Alice and Dean. If he wouldn't let her go to the Minotaur, Alice would have to bring it to her.

"Stay behind me!" Dean barked, stepping in front of Alice and blocking her way completely.

"OH MY GOD YOU ABSOLUTE _DICK_!" Alice cried in frustration, stomping her foot like an insolent child.

The beast bellowed again, closer this time. Dean tensed, and Alice punched him in the back half-heartedly.

"This isn't cute, Alice, knock it off!" Dean shouted at her.

"You're not being cute either, asshole!" Alice yelled in his ear, clawing at him in an attempt to make him move. Dean held her back for a few more seconds, but as a shifter, she was the stronger of the pair, and Dean was soon on his ass in the dank, filth-ridden tunnel.

Alice rounded the corner furiously, adrenaline pumping through her veins, more than ready to finally bleed this thing...

...to find that Sam had already done the job for her.

"Gah!" she shrieked, planting the xiphos in the Minotaur's corpse in her rage.

"Dean, I got it," Sam called around the corner.

"Oh, good," Dean said. He emerged, grimacing and soaked. Alice whirled around to face him, her fury written all over her face.

"Never. Do. That. Again," she growled.

"Or what, you'll toss me into more sewage?" Dean snapped, gesturing at his wet clothes.

Enraged past words, Alice started throttling him. He fought back, and they tumbled to the ground, each trying to choke the other.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Get a room, you two," he muttered, wiping his blade clean on the Minotaur's thick chest fur.


	8. When she hogs the bed

Having a bedmate wasn't bad most of the time. Dean liked waking with Alice curled up at his side, tangled with him, or even draped across him like an especially heavy blanket.

Alice was the most restless sleeper Dean had ever known though. She never slept in the same position, and she never stayed in the same place for more than an hour during the night. Most nights, she just tossed and turned, and all Dean had to do to keep her still was throw an arm over her.

Other nights, she was more active.

One such night came after Dean made a late trip out for toothpaste and batteries. When he returned, Sam was watching TV, and Alice was passed out on their bed.

"Dude, I told you not to let her fall asleep," Dean groaned.

Sam shrugged.

"She said she would wax my eyebrows off if I didn't stop yakking and let her get her four hours," he said nonchalantly.

Dean dropped the bag on the table, purposefully making noise in an attempt to rouse Alice. She didn't stir.

Dean made his way over to their bed, and found that, as he had suspected, Alice was playing an lay diagonally, facedown on the bed, one leg hanging off the side, while the other stretched across the length of the mattress. Her left arm was folded beneath her stomach, and her right reached for the nightstand.

"Thanks a lot, Sam," Dean grumbled as he carefully rearranged Alice's limbs. She was out cold, and didn't even snore more loudly while he laid her straight.

On the other bed, Sam shrugged again without looking away from the television.

"I like my eyebrows," he replied.

Dean kicked his shoes off, and got under the covers with Alice. He wrapped his arms around her restrainingly, and hooked one of his legs over hers. Hopefully that would keep her from moving around too much during the night.

In spite of his efforts, Dean was jerked away halfway through the night when he fell off the bed with a sharp cry and a thump, dragging the blankets with him. He sat up, groaning, and peeked onto the bed, to find that Alice was lying horizontal, and spread eagle.

"Aw, come on," Dean mumbled sleepily, hoisting himself back onto the bed. He pulled and nudged Alice back into a reasonable position, and passed out again. It felt like only minutes later that Dean woke up a second time with Alice's foot in his face.

"Aw, come on!" he repeated, pushing Alice's feet away and moving to sleep with his head at the foot of the bed.

Dean didn't even make it back to sleep before Alice started tossing again. He grabbed her, and got an elbow to the ribs for his trouble.

"Knock it off!" Dean growled, shaking her. She mumbled something incomprehensible in response, though Dean was quite certain that she was still sleeping. Never the less, Alice sighed, and seemed to relax against him. She was laying on one of his arms, and Dean could already feel the pins and needles creeping up from his fingertips. He didn't dare move though, since she finally seemed to have settled down.

The next time Dean woke, it was light, and Alice was poking him.

"Dean! Dean! Dean, get off me!" she whined breathlessly.

Dean found that he had rolled on top of her sometime in the night, covering her completely. He turned aside quickly, aided by a firm shove from Alice.

"God Dean, you are _such_ a bedhog," she moaned.

Dean heard Sam snickering softly from the other bed.

"Hahaha," Dean said drily.


	9. When he shares food with her

There were only a few things that made Dean touchy or overprotective - His car, his brother, his food, and sometimes, Alice.

Mostly his car and his food though.

Dean liked greasy fast food, doinky cakes, and pie. Alice was actually pretty sure he would eat anything, but these were his favorites, and he was the most likely to snap at you for getting too close while he was munching on , when Dean sat down with something like a huge plate of nachos that bore some resemblance to an oil slick, Alice knew to keep her distance. She had learned from watching Sam's mistakes, which was more than could be said for the younger Winchester.

"Hey, hands off!" Dean snapped, though with his mouth full of cheese, meat and chips, it sounded more like 'Hee, anff awf!'.

"Dude, you're not gonna eat all those!" Sam protested, reaching for a nacho. "Give me one!"

"No!"

Dean slapped Sam's hand away, smearing cheese on him in the process.

"Ick!" Sam protested. He reached across the table, and wiped the cheese on Dean's leg.

"Hey! Bitch!" Dean accused, dabbing at the stain angrily with a napkin.

"Jerk!" Sam shot back, grabbing a messy handful of nachos and making a quick escape.

"Not cool!" Dean called after him as he flew out the door, leaving it ajar behind him.

Alice rolled her eyes, got off the bed, and closed it, before settling down again and switching the channel. Natgeo was boring her.

Dean grabbed the nacho container, and stood with a groan. Alice eyed him warily as he plopped down on the bed beside her.

"I was here first," she pointed out warningly.

"What's that mean?" Dean asked in confusion.

Alice just shook her head at him and stopped on the weather channel.

"Want one?" Dean offered, holding out a soggy chip with a sloppy mess of toppings piled onto it.

It took Alice a minute to realize what he was saying.

"You want me to eat your food?" she asked dubiously, eyeing the nacho in suspicion.

"If you want," Dean replied absently, stuffing another chip in his mouth.

"After all that with Sam? You'll share with me, but not him?" Alice questioned.

"Hey, I don't get sex out of Sam," Dean pointed out past a mouthful of nachos. "Besides, he ate all the supreme tacos."

"Fair enough," Alice said, accepting the nacho with an amused smirk.


End file.
